Wildfire

by Roxanne Rustand

  “That’s one of the frightening aspects of this whole situation. Someone is carefully thinking all of this through, and finding ways to cause trouble. And I don’t even know why.”

  He glanced around, then moved to the side of the aisle and sat on a bale, propping his crutch against the stall behind him. He patted the space next to him. “Here, come into my office. We need to talk.”

  She wavered.

  “I’m not going to bite, I promise.”

  That felt like a challenge, and a challenge had always been hard for her to ignore. She sat at the far end of the bale, drew her feet up, and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I need to talk to you, too.”

  He tipped his head in agreement, without so much as a hint of guilt or hesitation. “You first.”

  “Why are you here, Josh?”

  He did a double take at that, then grinned. “You. Remember? You brought me here.”

  She waved away his words with an impatient flip of her hand. “No. Why are you here—in this part of Wyoming?”

  “A photo assignment, just as I said.” He lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “Though I’m way behind on it now.”

  She had a feeling they’d be going in circles for the next hour, if she didn’t cut to the chase. “Kirby Fellows says you’ve been asking a lot of questions around town. He thinks you’re here to stir up trouble.”

  Josh angled a look at her. “Trouble?”

  She reined in her impatience. “I think you know what I mean. All the photos. Talking to people. You’ve even done it to me—asking lots of questions about the drought, and about government grazing allotments. So is that what your trip is really about? Some sort of exposé for an environmental group?”

  “I’m not here to cause you any trouble,” he said after a long pause. “I’m just completing my last assignment for a magazine. But yes, I’m photographing the impact of this long-term drought.”

  “With a slant, right? To show that the ranchers are careless? That we’re thoughtlessly overusing the land?”

  “You can’t deny that the land here is fragile. That the topsoil is thin and the growing season is short.”

  “Of course not.”

  “And there’s already an ample elk and deer population up on those summer ranges.”

  “True, but you can’t deny that the ranchers are careful. We’re allowed a limited number of cattle up there, and we all follow that to the letter. And we carefully rotate those herds.” She pushed off the bale and strode a few yards, then turned back, her tension rising. “That grass is lush this time of year, but it certainly isn’t in our best interest to overgraze it. Why would we risk permanent damage? It would be a classic case of shooting ourselves in the foot.”

  “Maybe some of the other ranchers aren’t quite that careful.”

  “So I suppose they’re the ones you want to find?”

  “Actually, I’m trying to present a balanced view,” he said quietly.

  “Right. But you didn’t say a word to me until now, which implies you wanted to keep it a secret. I can just imagine how balanced it will be. Most of the families around here have held on to their allotments for fifty, sixty years. Without the use of that land, few of us could run enough cattle to stay in business.” She clenched her fists at her side, angry at him. Disappointed at herself for not seeing his real motivation for being here.

  And all too aware that once again, Claire had been right.

  “Even if we’re on different sides of this issue, I care about you, Tessa.” He met her gaze with frank honesty in his own. “Why would I do anything to hurt you?”

  Why, indeed. Memories from the past slammed into her thoughts, robbing her of coherent speech. She’d trusted him implicitly long ago. But was he really at fault for what happened? Wasn’t she, as well?

  He leaned back against the stall, still watching her expression. “I’m not sure what else I can say, other than to give you my word and ask that you trust me.”

  She managed a faint nod.

  “Not exactly an enthusiastic response, but it’s a start.” His mouth lifted in a faint smile as he solemnly offered his hand. “Friends—a little?”

  She hesitated. “A little.”

  She briefly pressed his hand, all too aware of the tingling sensation that danced across her skin at his touch. Wishing she didn’t still feel that same attraction.

  “Good, because we need to discuss something else.” The playful note in his voice vanished. “You need to think about who would profit most if this ranch or your outfitting business failed. Who would have the motivation to make that happen?”

  She poked at a frayed hole in the knee of her jeans. “The other outfitters, I suppose. But most have smaller operations like mine, and I’ve never noticed any resentment or jealousy. The big companies shouldn’t care. They’ve got huge budgets for advertising and have upscale facilities, and they book customers a year in advance. Why would they worry about a small operation like mine? It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “But there’s a limited pool of clients out there, and a lot of those people probably research vacation destinations all winter, looking for the best experience for their money, not necessarily a luxury package.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Had any recent encounters with those other operators lately?”

  “At the feed store or the grocery, now and then. We all just say hi and go on. And then there’s Arlen, who owns Whiskey River Outfitters. He’s always telling me that he wants to buy me out, and makes little comments about how much more successful his business is. But if he really had an agenda, I doubt he’d be so open about it.”

  “You don’t think he’s serious?”

  “Oh, he’s serious all right. He’s got the money, and I really do think he’d like to buy me out. But I’d have to be starving to ever let that happen, because he’s one of the most arrogant men I know. And honestly, my company poses little threat to his. So why would he risk legal problems by doing anything underhanded?”

  “Anyone else?”

  She thought for a minute. “As far as the ranch is concerned, hungry real estate investors are always looking for prime property. No one comes to mind, though.”

  They fell silent, listening to the sound of horses swishing their tails at flies and stamping their feet.

  “The irony is that no one would have to risk doing anything aggressive,” she continued. “With the drought and poor cattle prices, plus the loans we’ve had to take out, the financial status of this ranch is rocky. We could spiral into bankruptcy and foreclosure in the next couple years, easily.”

  “It can’t be as bad as all that.”

  “No? I’ve got a $12,000 note due in less than two weeks. And unless I can pull together a shipment of cattle before then, I won’t be able to pay it off.” She felt a melancholy tug at her heart. “That would damage our credit rating, which would make future loans at a decent rate nearly impossible…and the collateral was a section of the ranch, so there we’d be in trouble, too.”

  “Can you pay it off?”

  “You bet I will. I’ll have to let some good breeding stock go, and tonight I’m listing my custom-made saddle on one of the Internet auction sites. You can’t find new ones by this maker anymore, and the vintage models usually go for at least three grand.”

  Josh whistled under his breath. “Amazing.”

  “It was a gift from my Uncle Gray for my high school graduation. With the sterling conchos and lacing on the cantle and gullet, it should go for a lot more.” She looked up at Josh and tried for a nonchalant tone. “There’s no room for sentiment anymore. What matters is holding onto this ranch.”

  He hesitated, then curved an arm around her shoulders for a hug. “By this time next year, everything will be back on track. Your troublemaker will be cooling his heels in jail, the drought will be over, and cattle prices will go through the roof.”

  She smiled. “I like your version of the future a lot better than mine.”

  “Just keep an eye
out, Tess. If someone is after some sort of crazy, secret retaliation against you, it can’t stay a secret forever. You or someone else will notice something unusual—some clue—and we’ll get it figured out before I leave here. I don’t want to go until that happens.”

  Leave? The word startled her, and she looked up at him in surprise. She’d been hesitant about offering him a place to stay. But he’d been here over three weeks now, and he was becoming part of the fabric of life at the ranch. The thought of him moving on filled her with a sense of loss she hadn’t expected.

  “So…how soon will you get that cast off?” Embarrassed by the shaky note in her voice, she playfully nudged him with her elbow and slid over to the far end of the bale. “I can only imagine how much you’re going to miss it.”

  “I’ll have it at least three more weeks.”

  “And what about your Harley? Have you heard anything about the repairs?”

  “Probably about that long, as well. The guys at the shop said they had to order a number of parts online, and that’s taking longer than they expected. The bodywork is nearly completed.”

  So he would be gone that soon. But it’s for the best, she reminded herself silently.

  With his life established out East, he probably wouldn’t be back anytime soon, while this was her home, her career, and her commitment. There was no way that she’d ever be able to leave. When he left, he would be walking out of her life for good.

  He looked down at her, his eyes soft and questioning, and she had a sudden, surprising sense that he wanted to kiss her. Would he? Did she dare let him?

  Her cell phone rang, jarring and insistent, saving her from a potential mistake.

  But her relief was short-lived.

  At the end of the terse message, she dropped the phone in her lap and stared across the aisle, filled with disbelief.

  “T-that was Michael.” She felt the beat of her heart mark the seconds. Slow. Steady. Yet the world had taken a dizzying spin in an unexpected direction, and she hadn’t even known it until now. Poor Danny.

  “Edward Clive was found murdered this afternoon.”

  “Who?”

  “Danny’s former stepfather—or at least, one of them. H-he owned a cabin ten miles from here.” She fought down the lump in her throat, remembering the kindly old man with a shock of white hair and twinkling blue eyes who had always greeted her warmly whenever they crossed paths. “And now they’ve issued a warrant on Danny for the murder—but no one can find him anywhere.”

  THIRTEEN

  With Leigh’s dog Hobo now on patrol, quiet moonlight nights and the soft symphony of coyote howls in the distance were over. To Hobo, everything that moved—from June bugs to the twinkling lights of jets far overhead—were cause for alarm.

  Elvis sat on the porch of the main house and watched the other Border collie in action on Wednesday night without making a sound.

  He watched again on Thursday night, then apparently figured that shadowing Hobo would be a lot more fun than clinging to Josh. By ten o’clock, a duet of fierce barks erupted at the least provocation.

  Maybe that racket wasn’t conducive to sleeping, but Tessa had no doubt that her canine alarm system was on high alert as she worked into the early morning hours on ranch bookwork, then listed her favorite saddle on eBay.

  Melancholy, she closed down the computer and wandered through the empty house, locking the doors and flipping off lights as she went.

  She caught a flicker of movement at the corner of her eye as she passed the dining room. She whirled around, her heart in her throat as a dozen possibilities raced through her thoughts—and most of them weren’t good.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded, edging backward down the hall. Without taking her eyes off the darkened opening to the dining room, she fumbled for a heavy brass vase on a small table by the open staircase.

  Another ten feet and she could dart in the kitchen and race out the back door…

  “It’s…me.”

  The voice sounded as frightened as she felt herself. “Danny?”

  He stepped out of the shadows, his clothes filthy and face ghost-white, his eyes downcast. “I-I wasn’t gonna steal anything big. I just wanted to find some food. I didn’t think anyone was home.”

  Relief flooded through her. “How on earth did you get past the dogs?”

  Appearing too exhausted to stay upright for much longer, he wobbled a little and braced a hand against the wall. “They know me, I guess.”

  “Come on to the kitchen and I’ll get you something.” She looped her arm through his and took him there, settled him at the table, then foraged through the refrigerator. “This is some sort of fancy chicken fettuccini from tonight’s supper,” she said, showing him the bowl. “I can nuke a plate of it, if you’d like. It’s really good.”

  He nodded, then folded his arms on the table and rested his cheek against them while Tessa microwaved an ample portion for him. She held back, not saying anything, until he’d polished off two platefuls, and a couple glasses of milk.

  “You know there’s a warrant out for your arrest,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  He placed the silverware neatly on the plate and set it to one side with deliberate care, not meeting her eyes. “It’s all wrong,” he mumbled. “I was never anywhere close to that cabin. And I’d never hurt Edward, or anyone else.”

  He swiped at his eyes with the back of his wrist, and when he finally looked up at her, she could see that he’d been crying. “Where have you been?”

  “H-hiding.”

  “I gathered that,” she said dryly. “But you know it’ll just be a matter of time before the law catches up to you. And it’ll be a lot worse for you if they have to chase you down, than if you turn yourself in.”

  “But I didn’t do it. Someone said they saw me at Edward’s cabin just before h-he was killed. I heard it on the radio.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “But I can’t prove anything, because I was alone.”

  “You called me Tuesday evening and said you were sick, Danny, so you couldn’t come to work. That’s just about the time Edward was killed.”

  His gaze dropped to the table top. “I was sick…sorta.”

  “Were you out drinking with your friends?”

  “No!” He shook his head vehemently. “I only did that one time last winter—and I know it was just plain stupid.”

  “You weren’t with anyone at all?”

  Looking miserable, he shook his head. “Nope.”

  There’d been just a slight hesitation, and she wondered if maybe he’d been with a girlfriend, but it wasn’t really her place to ask. She sat back in her chair and sighed. Danny was twenty-three, but right now he looked scared and defeated and much, much younger.

  “The thing is, there’s a warrant for your arrest, and it isn’t going away. You can’t run forever.”

  He didn’t look up.

  “You already know Michael, and you know he’s a fair man. I’m sure the state has sent investigators to the crime scene, and they’re gathering every last bit of evidence. Won’t that clear your name?”

  “What if it doesn’t? What if they listen to those lies instead, and I end up in prison?”

  She pushed a plate of Sofia’s ginger cookies toward him and silently waited for him to sort out his thoughts.

  “You might as well call,” he said finally, his voice heavy. “I guess I just want to get this over.”

  A deputy arrived at the ranch an hour later. Tactful and businesslike, he still insisted on handcuffs and putting Danny in the back seat of the cruiser, though Danny seemed more like a frightened rabbit than some cold-blooded killer.

  Which of course he wasn’t. But what about his friends?

  His mother had gone through too many marriages and live-in boyfriends to count. Edward had surely been a high point through all of that, but as far as Tessa knew, there’d never been a strong and consistent father figure in the picture…and that had left the boy vulnerable to the wrong crowd.


  Long after she tried to fall asleep, the thought kept running through Tessa’s mind. Could he be trying to protect his friends—or someone else?

  The last time Tessa stepped inside the Jackson County Sheriff’s Office, she’d been there to pick up one of her ranch hands after he’d gotten in a fight over some girl.

  The faded green paint and scarred furniture hadn’t changed, but now there was a pretty young girl at the desk instead of a stern woman with her hair wrenched into a tight bun, and several large prints of the Tetons and the Snake River hung on the cement block walls.

  “Nice,” Tessa ventured while she waited for Michael to come out of his office. “It’s a little more cheerful in here.”

  The girl—Kaleesa, according to the name pin on her sweater—rolled her eyes. “The sheriff’s wife wants to do a makeover in here. I’m all for it.”

  “How much longer will he be, do you think?”

  She glanced down at the buttons on her phone. “Soon. He just ended his call.”

  “Can I visit Danny Watkins while I wait?”

  The girl studied her cuticles. “Gotta talk to the sheriff first, in case the prisoner is dangerous.”

  Tessa laughed. “And do you think he is?”

  “Danny? Of course not. He was in my classes all the way through school. He wouldn’t hurt a flea.” Her eyes rounded at her careless statement and a blush worked into her cheeks. “Um…I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t tell the sheriff, okay?”

  Tessa nodded. A moment later, Michael’s office door opened. He stepped into the hall and motioned to her, and she followed him into his office.

  “So, what’s his bail?” she asked as soon as Michael sat at his desk.

  He fiddled with a pencil. “I’m afraid there isn’t any.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” She took the chair in front of his desk and waited for Michael to smile, but he only shook his head. “He’s just a kid. You and I both know he couldn’t have killed Edward, and he has a steady job at the ranch. He isn’t going anywhere.”

  “At the arraignment this morning, the judge ruled against bail. Danny has a prior conviction—”